Dennis Jasper

Having small-scale fun with King Midgets

Feature Article from Hemmings Classic Car

Nearly invariably, the story is always the same. It started with boys and young men growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, the kind who were inventive sorts that loved to tinker with mechanical things. They often read Popular Mechanics and Mechanix Illustrated, and noted the advertisements for small kit- or factory-built economy vehicles in the magazines' classified sections. Other times they saw one in person and were smitten. Dennis Jasper of Stockport, Ohio, was first introduced to the King Midget as a teenager, and he was hooked for life.
To be a King Midget owner means that you're almost required to be good-natured, and Dennis fits this description to the letter. This retired diesel technician, whose certifications include airframe and powerplant ratings from the Federal Aviation Administration, got his mechanical start as a teenager in his father's autobody shop doing body/fender repair work and painting. And it was during this time at his father's shop that Dennis got his first taste of a King Midget. "Next door to my father's shop was a casket factory, and the person who owned the factory drove a King Midget every day," he recalls. "I wanted one in the worst way!"
Like many young auto enthusiasts, Dennis's desire for a King Midget was pushed aside as family responsibilities took first priority, but in 2000, he found a 1955 Model 2 for sale in Waverly, Ohio. "I bought the first one, and then one led to two, two led to three, and so on," he says with a smile. After purchasing the Model 2, he bought a Model 1, a Motor Scooter, a Trainer, and finally a Model 3.
Dennis's background in bodywork and aircraft repair gave him the tools and the know-how to tackle King Midget restorations. The red 1955 Model 2 came to him mostly complete. "Its body was pretty well beat-up and it had no engine, but the rest of the car was there," he recalls. "I made the floor pans, the running boards and bumpers, and I had the upholstery, front fenders and hood fabricated for me. I modified the body with frenched taillamps, filled fender seams and a top that retracted into the body." He powered the car with a Kubota four-cycle engine that sends its 16hp through a Comet Industries torque converter.
The single-passenger Model 1, sold only as a kit in 1950 and one of only seven or eight known to exist, came to Dennis as a small pile of parts. "I had the engine mount, the single brake drum and part of the rear suspension. I had another parts car, so I made patterns for the body, grille, hood and wooden frame rails, and I had to re-make the suspension, as it was rusted and pitted." The end result of his labors is a diminutive roadster finished in two-tone red and cream, running with a 9hp Kubota four-stroke on 8-inch-tall boat-trailer tires. "It's a fun car to show, and the body design is so cute," he smiles.
An even rarer find was Dennis's 1950 King Midget Super-Cycle Motor Scooter. "There are only five scooters known to exist," he says. "When I got the Super-Cycle, it had a front fender, the frame and the taillamp. I had to build the forks, the rear body and the braking system. The rear body was the hardest part of the restoration because I had to build a jig to hold it all in place." This 6hp, four-cycle, Wisconsin-powered scooter uses wheelbarrow wheels that were bored out and fitted with car wheel bearings. "It's surprisingly comfortable to ride," Dennis admits.
"It became part of a chain-I wanted one of each thing that King Midget Motors built," he says. And it was partially due to that fact and partially because his nephews and grandchildren kept asking him to drive the King Midgets on the private airstrip located on his 23-acre property that Dennis purchased an early 1960s Driver Trainer car. This vehicle, which consists of a bodyless tubular steel frame fitted with a seat, a 3.5hp, four-stroke Briggs & Stratton engine and an automatic centrifugal clutch, was found inside an old school bus. "It was all rusty, but I only had to sandblast and paint it," he recalls. Dennis says that the blue Trainer uses wheelbarrow wheels wrapped with 4.00 x 6-inch tires, and he enjoys how its lack of a body facilitates easy repairs. "It's geared low, but it will probably run 30 mph-they love it!"
The most intense King Midget buildup that Dennis undertook was his latest, the 1967 Model 3. "The Model 3 started with a frame, and my intention was to build a King Midget street rod-the whole body had to be fabricated out of 20-gauge sheetmetal, and I did it all except for the hood and quarter panels, which were made by John White of Claysville, Pennsylvania. The most difficult part of the restoration was building the removable steel hardtop and taller-than-normal doors," he says. He customized the purple car with inset taillamps and quad headlamps, 10-inch polished aluminum golf cart wheels, hydraulic 7-inch-drum trailer brakes and Volkswagen steering gear and links. Motivation came from a 400cc Honda motorcycle engine mated to its stock 5-speed transmission. "Although the engine is not that big, the car would probably outrun my S-10 pickup truck," Dennis says. "You don't want to hold it wide open, but it's an absolute ball to drive. It's got a 60-mph speedometer whose needle it will bury. It's like riding your lawn mower at 50-60 mph!"
Some of the best things about owning King Midgets are the fraternity that they engender and the reactions they elicit in others. "Our Ohio King Midget club has about 40 or 50 members, and we put on tours three or four times a year," Dennis smiles. "Everyone has a common interest, and King Midget people are a great bunch; we have a ball. Although older folks remember them from the magazine ads, young people think that King Midgets are tinker toys-they can't believe that they're licensed and legal for the street." While he does drive his vehicles on state routes, he won't take them on an interstate-"They're so light, a truck would blow you off the road," he laughs.
It seems that Dennis may have one example of each King Midget product, but he notes that in the early 1960s, the factory built little trailers that could be towed behind King Midget cars, and he hasn't found one yet. But this devotee is happy to spread the small-car gospel. "I think more people should get involved, because there are more King Midgets to be dug out of the woodwork. They're supported by a great group of people; the cars are easy to take to shows on a motorcycle trailer or in the back of a pickup bed-they're real conversation pieces, and above all, fun little cars."

This article originally appeared in the March, 2005 issue of Hemmings Classic Car.